Our national parks are breathtaking, but they don’t run on beauty alone. The National Park Service faces a staffing crisis, with nearly 1,000 positions eliminated, leaving rangers and staff stretched dangerously thin while our public lands remain increasingly vulnerable.
Now, more than ever, we need to step up to support these dedicated individuals and do our part to lessen our impact on the landscapes we love. Here’s how you can do that if you’re visiting a park this year:
1. Follow Leave No Trace Principles Pack out what you pack in. Stay on trails. Respect wildlife. The less damage we cause, the less work staff have to do to keep the parks clean and safe.
2. Volunteer Your Time Many parks offer volunteer programs where you can help with maintenance, visitor education, and conservation projects. If you’re an experienced hiker, check in with the ranger station and see if you can update blazes on any trails you take.
3. Donate to National Park Organizations Groups like the National Park Foundation and local “Friends of the Park” organizations provide funding for staff, restoration efforts, and educational programs. Some parks have programs that offer mental health support for park staff, like Yellowstone’s Resiliency Project, so those donations directly help people. Take part in the ranger-led programs or buy something in the gift shop — those profits usually go back into the park.
4. Advocate for Better Funding Contact your representatives and urge them to prioritize funding for the National Park Service. Your voice can help secure the resources these parks desperately need. Find your representative here.
5. Travel Responsibly Overcrowding and reckless tourism strain both park resources and staff. Visit during off-peak seasons if possible, use shuttles when available, and camp only in designated areas. Familiarize with the park first so you don’t have to rely on rangers. Also check the “alerts” section of each park’s website before going to stay up-to-date on current conditions.
6. Educate Others Spread awareness about the challenges our national parks face. Encourage friends and family to be responsible visitors and supporters.
7. Show Appreciation A simple thank-you to a ranger or park worker goes a long way. These folks work tirelessly to protect our lands, and a little gratitude can brighten their day.
Planning a family trip to Universal Studios Hollywood felt like a Choose Your Own Adventure where every option was somehow the wrong choice and would lead me toward doom.
To spend hundreds of dollars for one day at the park, but skip the ride lines, turn to page 17.
To spend slightly less and get a nine-month pass to the park, but waste your one wild and precious life waiting in all the lines, turn to page 23.
We opted for the latter. Instead of trying to cram everything into one day, I figured we could go a few times and focus on a different area each visit. Even though this meant we’d have to wait in line for the rides, it wouldn’t matter as much, since we wouldn’t be on a tight timeline. And who knows? I thought. Maybe we’d luck out and there wouldn’t be any lines.
Alas, that was the strategy of a much more naive version of myself — the Maggie I was before I waited 2.5 hours to get on Mario Kart: Bowser’s Challenge.
Here’s how the day went, where we went wrong, and what I’ll do next time.
What it costs
That’s not so easy to answer. Regular tickets start at $109, two-day general admission tickets start at $159, express passes start at $209, and various other passes go from $179 to $639.
Why do I keep qualifying that with “start at”? Because the price varies wildly by day. Peak times, like weekends, holiday breaks, and more desirable days are significantly more expensive. So while I tried to find that elusive $109 ticket price, it never aligned with our work/school schedule.
Instead, I found a discount on the nine-month California Neighbor Pass, bringing it down to $150/per person. That is still expensive, but I can justify the cost by making multiple visits.
Note: I don’t want to tell you how expensive parking is. I can barely admit it to myself. But you should know that parking is my second-least favorite thing to pay for, because it’s just GROUND that my car is borrowing. Stupid.
Food and beverages
That brings me to my least favorite thing to pay for: Water.
Thank goodness Universal Studios allows you to bring in refillable water bottles. (Maximum of two liters).
The regulations also say you can bring snacks and small food items, and I did that too. But I didn’t bring enough. Later I saw people pulling hoagies the size of Buicks out of their backpacks, so I could’ve packed more substantial items. Next time.
Instead, we ate at Three Broomsticks in the Wizarding World of Harry Potter. I had the vegan shepherd’s pie, which was food. It kind of looked like someone started to make shepherd’s pie, then got tired of it halfway through.
Everest plowed through whatever he ordered — a platter of cabbage and mashed potatoes and tomatoes and sausage and peas and some spare change, I think. Jason had a salad, which he regretted because he hates salad, so I’m not sure why that order was ever made.
The real winner was butterbeer, something I’ve wanted to try ever since I first read Harry Potter. It was delicious, like a butterscotch cream soda, and I think I could happily live on a butterbeer-only diet. It would be a short life, but a satisfying one.
The rides
It’s been a long time since I’ve been to an amusement park, so I had forgotten what it feels like to wait in line for a ride. And everything in the new Super Nintendo World required a wait. We waited in line to enter that section of the park (sometimes there’s a virtual queue, but it wasn’t an option when we visited). Then we waited 2.5 hours for the Bowser’s Challenge ride. We waited for the interactive games. We were about to wait in line for photos with Mario, but Mario went on a break. Bless you, tiny plumber.
There was another ride in the Super Nintendo World area, but I could actually feel my soul leaving my body, so at that point we left.
Then we waited 45 minutes to ride Revenge of The Mummy.
Later, we waited for the Flight of the Hippogriff ride.
That’s it. THREE RIDES. But those three experiences topped our priority list for the day, and we accomplished that.
The other stuff
Yes, I visited Ollivanders Wand Shop. I was curious how it would compare with what I imagined long ago, when I first read the Harry Potter series. And it was, in fact, pretty darn magical.
The whole point
A few months ago, Everest said he wanted to ride his first roller coaster, and I wanted E to love roller coasters the way I do.
I remember going to King’s Island with my family when I was growing up — devouring hot, greasy funnel cakes, posing for keychain photos in front of a fake Eiffel Tower, riding the Beast and then hurrying to get back in line — those are some of my most treasured memories.
That was the impetus for this Universal Studios trip. The exhilaration of being THIS TALL TO RIDE, the lap restraint pressed a little too tight, the click-clack of cars chugging up a steep hill, and finally, taking flight.
I wanted to give that to my child.
Well, he hated it. On the two coasters, Everest clutched my hand until my fingers turned blue. He murmured, “No. No. NO.” His eyes were as big as saucers, and those saucers were full of terror.
So he’s not a roller coaster kid. At least not right now, and that’s fine. It just means that when we return to Universal, we’ll be the folks enjoying the shows instead.
I’ve been interested in Cirque du Soleil ever since the company was founded in 1984. But I honestly never thought I’d see Cirque for a few reasons: 1. The performances usually take place in large cities. 2. I don’t tend to see shows when I travel. 3. I am very bad at making plans. (I once tried to buy same-day tickets to see LOVE in Las Vegas. It was Valentine’s Day, so … yeah. I struck out harder than my freshman year homecoming date.)
This time, however, was different. This time Cirque came to me.
For a very limited time, the touring production of Cortéo is appearing at Palm Desert’s Acrisure Arena, and I had an opportunity to attend on opening night.
Written by Daniele Finzi Pasca, founder of the Swiss clown troupe Teatro Sunil, Cortéo is the story of an Italian clown named Mauro who watches his own funeral procession. Beginning with Mauro’s deathbed, the procession unspools into a carnival atmosphere with dreamy scenes that look back at childhood memories but also take the viewer into otherworldly, ethereal realms.
First off, I’ll admit that I was nervous about taking my 9-year-old son to the show, since he is a vibrating ball of existential dread. I wondered how Cortéo would tackle mortality and how the show would present concepts of death/ the afterlife. I worried it would leave us feeling melancholy or distressed.
Would it be scary?
Worse, would the clowns be creepy?
Now I can firmly say my biggest worry is that my son will run off and join the circus. He was CAPTIVATED.
“This is so joyful,” he whispered as the performers leaped from one oversized bed to another, showing off gravity-defying acrobatic skills.
“Please don’t be joyful at home,” I whispered back. His bed doesn’t have good springs.
I also didn’t know if a circus would feel relevant today, when we have access to so much and can watch fantastical stories with jaw-dropping special effects on our own screens. In an era of AI, what did acrobats, aerialists, and some Italian clowns have to offer?
Well, I don’t want to give it all away, in case you end up seeing Cortéo yourself, but I was surprised and delighted. The show was far funnier than I expected but also weirder, like a Fellini fever dream. There were big, remarkable moments with gymnasts in spinning hoops and aerialists on swinging chandeliers (“That is not safe,” my son said). But the small, quieter scenes made an impact too.
I appreciated the innovative use of the set in its entirety — the trap doors and swooping angels, the balloonist who floated above the audience, the trampoline that ran the length of the stage and seemed like a runway to something beyond this world. It felt both grand and intimate, a real marvel.
Then there were the performers who were so strong and skillful, they seemed to be some other magnificent species entirely. Watching them was like gazing at Beyoncé, like, are you sure we’re all humans here?
Of course, they are human. And that’s key to why Cirque resonated for me and won me over.
It’s not just that Cirque is good despite not having special effects — it’s good because it doesn’t have special effects. At a time when reality is increasingly virtual, here was something real. Here was something alive, (albeit wrapped up in a story about death).
For me, the magic of Cirque lies in the fact that it is wildly human, and what they’ve created in Cortéo embodies life in all its beauty, power, and absurdity.
And when it all comes to an end, let’s hope we go in a cloud of glitter too.
You might think you don’t care about the World’s Columbian Exposition of 1893, which was held in Chicago.
But let me tell you about some of the now-cherished items that debuted there: Cream of Wheat, Juicy Fruit gum, the chocolate bar (Hershey’s), Aunt Jemima Pancakes, the #2 yellow pencil, Shredded Wheat, the automatic dishwasher, Cracker Jacks, the zipper, Ferris wheels.
Also America’s first serial killer.
Right. We could’ve done without that last thing.
One of my favorite books, The Devil in the White City by Erik Larson, delves into that World’s Fair and how it profoundly changed the country. The inventions! The murders! The new foods! The murders! Zippers! More murders!
It’s a gripping and wildly informative read, and it’s also a master class in nonfiction that reads like fiction.
What does all this have to do with a sweet treat?
Well, I was recently in Chicago with my high school girlfriends. As we walked around downtown, we passed by a place that sounded familiar from the book: the Palmer House Hotel.
I pulled my friends inside, not just because it’s a grand building …
And not just because it’s infused with historic details, like Mark Twain’s gallon-sized beer stein, and ostentatious lamps …
but because this is a place in food history!
Palmer House is where the brownie was invented.
As the story goes, the dessert was inspired by socialite Bertha Palmer, who was married to Potter Palmer, the millionaire owner of the hotel. She chaired the ladies’ board for the World’s Fair and tasked the hotel pastry chef with creating something that would be easy to box up and transport to the festival grounds.
Voila, the chef dreamed up brownies! (Although they weren’t called that until 1898, when they appeared in a Sears Roebuck catalog.)
The Palmer House confection is not quite to my taste, as I’m more of a crunchy edge brownie person, and this one has a gooey, fudge-like consistency. But hey, we need both kinds of brownie eaters in this world.
If you want to try it yourself, here’s the recipe. More than a century old, it’s the same one they use today.
The guide prepped us with a countdown of “Three, two, one …”
Instantly, we were plunged into the blackest darkness I’ve ever experienced. A darkness so complete, it felt thick. I put my hand in front of my face, and not only was I unable to see it, I wondered if my hand still existed.
Just when I felt like I might be falling through space, my son wrapped his arms around my legs. A moment later, the guide turned on the small lights that illuminated the path.
I quickly reoriented myself. Ahead of me, cave. Behind me, cave. Above me, you guessed it. Cave.
It’s a good thing I’m not the kind of person who gets claustrophobic in confined spaces. Rather, I’m the kind of person who, when faced with darkness, potentially loses their own body.
I was standing in the deepest point of Mitchell Caverns, an adventurous Southern California road trip destination within two hours’ drive from Barstow and a fun add-on for camping trips in the surrounding area.
The caverns are named for Jack Mitchell, who bought claims to the land and sounds a bit like a sunbaked, desert version of P.T. Barnum. Back in 1934, he and his wife, Ida, built stone structures by hand on the property and ran a small resort that included tours of the caves. They also developed the road that led from Route 66 to the caverns, approximately 22 miles, and turned it into a popular attraction.
On view are two main caves: “El Pakiva,” the Devil’s House, and “Tecopa,” named for a Shoshone chief. There’s a third cave, but it’s deep and dangerous, and at this point it’s off limits to the public.
The tour enters through the “eyes of the mountain” and only becomes more spectacular from there.
The caverns feature some unique and unusual formations, and our guide was excellent about explaining them. I knew about stalagmites and stalactites, but I had no idea that so many cave features are named for food! We saw cave bacon, cave frosting, cave mushrooms, and cave shields — “they’re kind of like a sandwich,” our guide said.
Overall the caverns were more impressive than I expected, a true gem within the California state park system.
GO SEE IT
Where: Mitchell Caverns is located in the Providence Mountains State Recreation Area in the eastern Mojave Desert.
When: The State Park is open Fridays, Saturdays, Sundays, and holiday Mondays from September to June. (Closed July and August.)
You must have a guided tour for the caverns. Reserve this by calling (760)928-2586 between 8 a.m. and 5 p.m. on Mondays. Group size is limited to 15 people.
What time: Tours are approximately 2 hours long and take place at 10 a.m. in June and September, and 11 a.m. and 2 p.m. during the other months.
Cost: Tours are $10 per adult, $9 per senior, and $5 for children. There’s also a $10 State Park fee per vehicle.
Bring: There’s no gas or food located within many miles of the attraction, so make sure you have everything you need to fuel yourself and your vehicle. For the tour, you can take a water bottle, but no backpacks or snacks.
Good to know: The bat population is being decimated by white-nose syndrome. It’s a fungal growth that does not affect humans, but humans can carry and spread the spores, and the spores can survive for up to a decade. For that reason, the park requests that whatever you wear to Mitchell Caverns, you never wear into another cave. (So if you have plans to visit another cave soon, this is a great excuse to buy new hiking boots!)
Accessibility: The location of the caverns do not allow for trails to be ADA accessible. Also, the cavern formations create areas as low as 62 inches and as narrow as 14 inches. There are video tours of the caverns that can be viewed inside the visitor center.
